Fatigue
The day I wound a rope around my neck and jumped off the washing machine wasn’t even the worst day of that week. It started when I met my best friend Helen at McDonald’s for coffee.
“It’s your Harold,” she said. “He’s having an affair.”
I gotta tell ya, I laughed so hard, coffee came out my nose, and it was hot! “Come on,” I said. Harold doesn’t have the stamina to have an affair.”
But he was.
And she was our daughter’s college roommate.
And our daughter approved.
And I was too tired to divorce him.
So I left.
From Guest Contributor Pat Tyrer
Pat is a writer who hikes and watches birds when the sun is up and star gazes when it’s not. When not reading or writing, she can be found out walking with her dog Emma. Her work has appeared in Readers’ Digest, Quiet Mountain Essays, Black Fox Literary Magazine, among others. She has published two poetry books: Creative Hearts (Path Publishing) and Western Spaces, Western Places (Local Gems Press).
Please support the site by purchasing one of my books on Amazon. Check out Quitting The Grave, a murder mystery set on the Oregon Trail. Plus, don't forget my other books: They Both Loved Vonnegut, Ahab's Adventures in Wonderland, and Picasso Painted Dinosaurs.